


Space Caked

by blackmountainbones



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Bringing Back the Boosh, Drugs, M/M, Naboo is so done with everyone's shit, Prompt #4: Altered Consciousness, Telepathy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, bad trips, honestly the Shaman Council shouldn't be intervening anybody, idiots to lovers, it's like a buddy comedy except all the buddies hate each other, mentions of BDSM, mentions of knifeplay, poppers, that's not how you do an intervention, the Shaman Council - Freeform, the gang's all here, the idiots need a little help, well it's a Shaman Council fic what did you expect?, you'll find out more about the Shaman Council's kinks than perhaps any mortal should ever know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-23 17:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmountainbones/pseuds/blackmountainbones
Summary: Naboo finally creates his masterpiece: a Spake Cake made from all manner of the finest psychoactive substances in the galaxy. The consumption of such a confectionary is certain to bestow those who dare to eat it with amazing abilities. Unfortunately, Naboo's ability seems to be hearing the thoughts of his flatmates Howard Moon and Vince Noir--and all they can think about is bumming one another silly. In desperation, Naboo enlists the help of the Shaman Council.





	Space Caked

**Author's Note:**

> Don't do drugs, kids. You don't want to end up like Naboo. (Or maybe you do. I don't judge.)
> 
> Big thanks to [@BobSkeleton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobSkeleton/pseuds/BobSkeleton) for the beta and all your help Saboo- and Tony Harrison-ifying the dialogue! Seriously, no one can write those two like Bobby can. You make me worse, and I like that about you.
> 
> the

Now _this_ , Naboo thought as he eagerly cut a slice of Space Cake, was sure to be his masterpiece.

He’d labored over the confectionary for days, lovingly imbuing it with only the finest psychoactive substances known to man, beast, and alien alike. He and his familiar, Bollo, had made weed butter from premium imported Humboldt County Gorilla Glue. Then they’d collected the finest hallucinogenic mushrooms from the Himalayan mountains to make a truffled chocolate icing. As a finishing touch, instead of sprinkling the confection with powdered sugar, they’d dusted the cake with a mixture of ketamine and cocaine.

Now, it was ready. Naboo’s mouth watered as he scooped a forkful of cake into his mouth.

The taste was divine. Naboo took another bite, then another. It was so good he helped himself to another piece, and then one more for good measure.

Fifteen minutes later, Naboo had melted into the couch. He’d never been so high in his 406-year-long life, and that was really saying something. He was thoroughly enjoying his high when Vince and Howard walked up the stairs and into the kitchen. Immediately, Naboo began to sense that something was wrong.

While it seemed that Vince and Howard were having a normal conversation--which for them, meant bickering about the soup they were going to eat for supper--Naboo was able to hear a second, subliminal conversation in his head. _Christy, Howard’s bum looks nice in those cords… but it’d look better with a little tailoring…. Wonder if he’d let me take his measurements? Bet I could cop a feel of his tackle while measuring his inseam… Vince’s jumpsuits just keep getting tighter. I swear I can see his bollocks through the Spandex…._

Alarmed, Naboo shot upright, which was not easy for a shaman of his small stature, especially considering that he had consumed three slices of Space Cake. He shook his head violently in an attempt to clear the horrible, horrible thoughts from his mind, but they just got worse.

_God, Howard’s arse is especially plump today. I could take a bite out of it, like a pumpkin…_

_I bet Vince is really packing. You wouldn’t expect such a little man to have such a big dick…_

In desperation, Naboo did the only thing he could do. “You guys have to shag,” he screamed. His voice was wracked with desperation.

The two sexually repressed ballbags who had caused the entire problem looked at the shaman in alarm. Naboo was generally pretty chill (not surprising, considering that he was stoned almost all of the time) and it was very unusual for him to lose his cool.

“What?” Howard asked, taken aback with surprise.

“You and Vince have to shag,” Naboo repeated.

“Are you high?” Vince asked skeptically.

“Well, yeah, of course I'm high,” Naboo said. “I’m _always_ high.”

“Oh,” Howard said, and went back to ignoring Naboo while trying to catch a peek of Vince’s package in his tight jumpsuit. For his part, Vince rolled his eyes and continued ogling Howard’s arse.

_What would Howard do if I just snuck a pinch… probably scream “don’t touch me!”... but what if he didn’t? I wouldn’t be able to stop at just a pinch... I bet he’d take my fingers so well..._

_I wonder what that big prick would feel like in my mouth…. Vince could really choke a man with a cock like that…._

Naboo’s mind was assaulted with Howard’s very graphic fantasies. He moaned, not because he was aroused, but because he thought he might throw up. “But that has nothing to do with anything! Please. Please shag and put us all out of our misery!”

“What's gotten into Naboo?” Vince asked Howard.

“Nothing,” Howard said. “He’s just high and talking nonsense.”

Vince nodded. That sounded like pretty normal behavior from Naboo.

“Vince,” Naboo said, desperately clinging to the other man’s blouse, “you have to shag Howard.”

“What?”

“Give him a vigorous bumming. Please. Make it stop! It's the only way!”

“Vince,” Howard said, regarding his best friend with a concerned expression, “I think Naboo is having a bad trip.”

Vince sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “I’ll go get Bollo. He’ll know what to do.”

 

 

Bollo was at a loss about how to deal with Naboo’s bad trip. That was the thing about drugs… you just had to settle in and let them take their course. He went about making Naboo as comfortable as possible with lots of Indian throws and brocade pillows, even putting Fleetwood Mac’s _Tusk_ on the record player, but try as he might, his shaman refused to be soothed. Bollo was concerned, but unsure how to handle the situation other than making sure that Naboo was in a comfortable place with soft music and plenty of psychedelic posters to stare at.

Through it all, Naboo desperately tried to explain his predicament. “Bollo, you don’t understand. _I can hear Vince and Howard’s thoughts.”_

“Vince and Howard have thoughts?” Bollo asked. He was a wise old ape, studied in the ways of men, and he had always assumed that two people as stupid as Vince and Howard were too simple for rational thought and acted only on blind instinct.

“I was surprised, too,” Naboo admitted, feeling sick as he was hit with another wave of telepathic communication. _Howard’s arse is so juicy… I wonder how heavy Vince’s bollocks would feel in my hand…_ The shaman shuddered, then pulled himself together enough to speak. “They're thinking about bumming. Bumming _each other,”_ he added, just to clarify the urgency of the situation.

As if on cue, the disembodied voices started up again. _Yes, Howard, bend over like that. No man should look so sexy just trying to find the saucepan… If Vince’s cock looks so big soft, how big_ does _it get when he’s turned on? I bet I could barely get a cock as big as his in my mouth without gagging on it…._

Naboo pressed his hands over his ears. “Make it stop,” he whined, too far gone to care how pathetic he sounded.

“Bollo no can make it stop,” the ape said wisely. “Like bad acid, Naboo have to wait this out.”

“Bollo, please. Be merciful,” Naboo begged. “You have to kill me.”

Bollo might have been an ape, but he took pride in his position as Naboo’s familiar. “Bollo good familiar. Bollo not kill his shaman just because his shaman have bad trip.”

“ _Please_ ,” Naboo begged.

Bollo gathered Naboo into his arms and began grooming him. Usually, Naboo found being groomed soothing, but even Bollo’s affectionate fingers on his scalp were not powerful enough to block the constant internal monologue that was assaulting his mind from the inside in high-definition stereo.

_Howard’s hair is getting long these days... just enough to pull on when he’s sucking cock... Christy, if I keep thinking like this I’m going to embarrass myself! This jumpsuit is well tight even without a boner..._

_Fuck, Vince’s cock looks bigger than ever right now. Is it the light or the way he’s sitting?... I shouldn’t be looking, but just one more peek... it’s more than a mouthful, that’s for sure..._

Naboo sighed, defeated. “I hate to ask you to do this, Bollo, but I have no choice,” he groaned in desperation. “We have to call an emergency meeting of the Shaman Council.”

Bollo looked at his shaman skeptically. “Naboo sure?” he asked. He knew his shaman well enough to know that he _hated_ his fellow Council members and tried to avoid them at all costs.

“Please,” Naboo begged. “We need _help_.”

 

 

As soon as the Shaman Council arrived at the flat, they immediately went for the Space Cake, which, in Naboo’s panic to rid himself of Vince and Howard’s internal sexual commentary, Naboo had forgotten to hide.

“No!” Naboo shrieked, attempting to get between the shaman and the Space Cake. “You don’t want that.”

“What an arsehole,” Saboo grumbled.

“You don’t want to share your drugs with your fellow shaman?” Tony Harrison scoffed. “This is a flagrant violation of the Shaman Code, section 2, part A!”

“Well, it’s certainly against protocol,” Dennis mused.

Kirk, ignoring everyone, scarfed down two slices of Space Cake and immediately went grey. Covering his ears, he released a panicked shout. “Make it stop! Make it stop!”

Naboo regarded the child-shaman with a scornful smirk. “And _this_ is exactly the reason I called you here today.” He turned and faced the rest of the Shaman Council, ignoring the child-shaman whose depraved nature and hunger for new and exotic drugs had exposed him to Howard and Vince’s constant internal monologue of repressed homosexual lust. “Bollo and I have searched far and wide to collect the strongest psychoactive substances in the universe to make the ultimate Space Cake. Unfortunately, in addition to getting you incredibly high, it also allows you to hear the thoughts of the people around you.” He paused, regarding his audience for dramatic effect. “This would not be such a bad thing… unless you lived in an apartment with two men who lust for each other but are too cowardly and repressed to give in to their sickening human desires.”

Though Naboo had not bothered to name names, the rest of the Shaman Council immediately knew to which two men he was referring.

Saboo wore an expression of absolute disgust. “Wait… so you’re saying that the two human ballbags who share your apartment, work in your shop, and spend every hour of every day together _aren’t_ shagging?”

The rest of the Shaman Council looked similarly confused.

“They told me they were in love!” Dennis screeched. “I watched them kiss! It was disgusting! I had rethink everything I thought was pure and kind and holy in the universe!”

“Well,” Naboo explained, “they were lying to you so that you wouldn’t cut Vince’s head off with your sword.”

Dennis reached for his sword, cursing Howard and Vince. “I will kill them for this treason!”                                                                                                            

“No kill Vince!” Bollo cried, throwing himself in front of Dennis to restrain the man. “Vince precious flower. Bollo be very sad if he die!” Luckily, his ape-strength prevailed, and Dennis was quickly subdued and his sword confiscated by the very protective gorilla whose long arms gave him an advantage in the struggle for control over the blade.

“This is an outrage!” Tony Harrison screamed. None of the shaman paid him any mind, as he was always screaming that.

Regardless, Naboo did his best to take control of the situation. “They might have been lying to you, but that doesn’t mean that they weren’t telling the truth!”

“Considering the literal definition of lying is ‘failure to tell the truth’, I find your words contradictory and therefore impossible to take seriously,” Saboo said.

“Shut up, you pedant!” Naboo shut his eyes and tried to block out the cacophony inside his head that consisted of Vince’s admiration of Howard’s pumpkin arse and Howard’s scrutiny of the way that the shiny Lycra of Vince’s jumpsuit highlighted his… assets… enough to think. “Look, they might have kissed for the first time under duress, but they’ve always felt that way! You actually did them a favor… as soon as they thought Vince was going to die, they did something about their disgusting human urges!” He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Since he was already stoned, they were even smaller than Howard’s. “Actually, the real problem is that you _stopped_ trying to kill them, so they went back to being repressed instead of bumming each other and putting everyone out of their misery…”

“Give me back my sword!” Dennis screeched, reaching for the blade. Bollo’s long arms held it confidently out of reach of the head shaman as they scuffled.

“No one is killing anyone! Do you have any idea how many drugs are in this apartment?” Naboo asked. “The last thing we need is for the Earth police to show up! We’ll all be arrested.”

“No big deal, we can just magic our way out and never return to Earth again,” Tony offered helpfully.

“This planet is shite anyway,” Saboo agreed.

“They will _confiscate the drugs,”_ Naboo warned.

That caught the attention of the other shaman.

“Nooooo!” Kirk whined pathetically from the floor, where he was still lying in the fetal position and trying to block out the sound of Howard and Vince’s unconsummated mutual longing.

“Well, as you can see, we have a situation on our hands,” Dennis mused.

Naboo sighed in exasperation. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you ballbags the whole time.”

 

 

“First of all,” Howard said, “I’m not sure why you had to tie us to these chairs in order to give us an intervention.”

“I’m not even sure you guys know what an intervention even is?” Vince added. “Me ‘n Howard don’t have a drug problem. If anyone here has a drug problem, it’s _you_ lot.” He glared and wriggled against the bonds, but luckily, Saboo’s expertise in bondage had ensured that they were tied very, very securely and could not escape.

Dennis cleared his throat. “Howard, Vince, we are gathered here today because you two have a problem. You may not be ready to admit it, but since we care about you very much--”

“I don’t,” Saboo interrupted.

“Yeah, I hate these guys,” Tony Harrison agreed.

“Shut up, you wankers! The purpose of this intervention isn’t to talk about how annoying Vince and Howard are, it’s about helping them with their _problem_.” Naboo stressed the word _problem_ deliberately so even the burned-out brains of his fellow shaman could understand what he meant by that.

“Oh yeah.”

“Right, right.”

“Carry on, then.”

Vince and Howard did not look any less alarmed by their current predicament, but Naboo supposed that that could not be helped. Hopefully, after the Shaman Council had completed their intervention, they would look a lot less confused by the situation.

“Let the intervention begin!” Dennis proclaimed with a hand gesture that was supposed to be dramatic but just looked pathetic. Something about the man made _everything_ he did pathetic, but there was no time to worry about such things, so Naboo sighed and turned his attention to the situation at hand. Since he was the one most affected by Howard and Vince’s refusal to consummate their homoerotic longing, Naboo went first.

Naboo figured the best way to get his tenants to resolve their problem was to manipulate them into shagging. After all, they were simple-minded and rather easy to trick. He took a deep breath and spoke.

“Vince, the Spirit of Fashion is inside Howard’s arse,” Naboo explained, speaking slowly and deliberately in order to fake a sense of calm that he did not feel. “You must use your penis to get it out.”

“What is wrong with you, Naboo?” Vince asked, incredulous. “Have you seen Howard’s arse? Howard’s arse is where fashion goes to die.”

“Hey!” Howard protested.

“No offense, Howard, but just _look_ at the trousers you’re wearing,” Vince scoffed. “Those trousers could make even a pumpkin look like a radish.”

“I am a modest man, who knows how to leave the people wanting more! Unlike you, with your skintight jumpsuits that leave nothing, I mean _nothing_ , to the imagination,” Howard huffed.

“Good, you’ve admitted it! That’s the first step to making positive changes in your life,” Dennis said with a smile that was supposed to be encouraging but just looked deranged.

Vince and Howard shared a panicked glance with one another. Naboo fought the impulse to sigh--this was going to be more difficult than he’d expected. He wished, not for the first time, that he could think clearly about the whole situation, but even now he was assaulted with Vince and Howard’s perversion as thoughts like _Howard looks good tied up_ and _This isn’t so bad, might actually be fun if Vince were the one tying me up_ ricocheted in Naboo’s head.

In contrast to the filthy thoughts inside his head, Vince played dumb when he bothered to respond to Dennis’s comment. “Admit what?” Vince questioned, testing the strength of his bonds once again.

Naboo rolled his eyes. “I give up. You guys are idiots!”

“We’re trying to help you, you subhuman troglodytes!” Saboo exclaimed.

“Help us with what?” Howard asked. “We were doing just fine before you tied us to these chairs and insisted on giving us an intervention.”

“None of you have told us what this is for, neither,” Vince groused.

Dennis pushed Naboo and Saboo back before they took their frustration out on Vince and Howard,  the two men the shaman were supposed to be helping. “Let me try,” he said, glancing back at the other members of the shaman council, who were gazing at him expectantly.

Vince and Howard looked less convinced that Dennis could offer them any useful advice, but Dennis was determined to try. “You see, when a man loves another man, that love is a like a beautiful… orchid. It must be watered and tended to in order to bloom. If you fail to nurture it, it will wilt and die….”

Vince looked confused. “Let me get this straight….”

“I think you mean ‘let’s get this bent’,” Saboo muttered under his breath. The rest of the Shaman Council erupted in laughter, and Dennis shot the other shaman a warning look that made them stifle their laughter.

Ignoring the laughter of the Council, Vince continued. “You are giving us an intervention to make sure that we water our plants properly?”

“No, no, that’s not it at all,” Dennis said, beginning to get frustrated. “What I mean is… when a man loves another man, it’s like… the bees and the… bees--”

“Is this another plant metaphor?” Howard asked. “Do we need to make sure our plants are watered so the bees can pollinate them properly and make more flowers?”

“Or are you trying to tell us how to make honey?” Vince wondered aloud. “Because I’m very, very confused right now.”

Dennis, admitting defeat, decided to let Saboo take a stab at talking sense into the two idiots.

“Now listen here, you two pathetic excuses for intelligent lifeforms,” Saboo began, “it is obvious that you two titanic twats need each other very, very much--”

“I don’t need Howard!” Vince protested.

“Well, I don’t need you either, Vince!” Howard proclaimed.

Saboo rolled his eyes, not fooled for a moment by Vince and Howard’s excessively adamant denials. “You two spend every hour of every day together, and in those rare moments where life’s circumstances conspire to keep you apart, all you ever want to talk about is what the other is doing without you--”

“We’re _mates_ ,” Howard said.

“That’s what mates do,” Vince agreed. “They enjoy each other’s company. Not that you’d understand.”

“Yeah,” Howard agreed. “You hate everyone.”

“Look,” Saboo said, “I might be a misanthropic arsehole, but I know a little something about the love that dare not speak its name. And if you have desires that not everyone understands, it can be very difficult to express them--”

“Wait, what desires?” Vince asked.

Saboo glared. “What I’m trying to say is, is that it’s very important to have a safe word.”

“You mean some words are dangerous?” Howard looked contemplative, as if this concept had never before occurred to him.

Saboo, pushed to edge by Vince and Howard’s idiocy, snapped. “No, you ignoramuses! A safe word is something you say when your partner ties you up a little too tightly! Or cuts you a little too deeply and you start bleeding too much and get dizzy!”

“Are you saying Howard wants to _cut_ me?” Vince cried, looking aghast.

“I don’t want to cut anyone!” Howard insisted. “You’re the one who tied us up, Saboo! Does this mean that you’re going to-- _cut_ us?”

“I would never engage in such kinds of risk-aware play with two beings as annoying as you two cretins!” Saboo hollered. “I’m only interested in cutting people who are my intellectual equals, and at least, if not more, physically attractive than I am!”

Vince tossed his hair. “Oi! I’m way more physically attractive than you are! No one wears feathers in their hats like that anymore, unless they’re Yankee Doodle!”

“And I’m much more intellectually intelligent than you! When was the last time you listened to the music known as _jazz_?” Howard scoffed.

Saboo hung his head in his hands. “I give up,” he snarled.

Kirk stood up. “I’ll go next.”

Kirk spent the next five minutes recounting his most horrifically depraved sexual practices. By the end of it, even Tony Harrison looked a little green.

For their part, Vince and Howard were dry-heaving and desperately trying to escape from their bonds.

“Thank you for that, Kirk,” Naboo said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were supposed to be _helping_ them, not making them wish they were eunuchs so they’d never have to shag anyone ever again.”

“Bollo be sick,” Bollo moaned, clutching at his stomach.

Naboo found he had to agree.

“That’s enough, Kirk,” Dennis said, desperately trying to wrest some control over the situation.

Kirk finally shut his gob, and both the members of the Shaman Council and the two bound men sighed in relief.

“I know _exactly_ what Vince and Howard need,” Tony Harrison proclaimed with a bright grin.

“What, exactly, do you know about what Vince and Howard need?” Saboo griped. “You don’t even have a penis, only tentacles!”

“My penis exists and is multi-hexagonal and barbed unlike your primitive genitals, thank you very much!”

“Wait,” Vince said, looking concerned. “What does Tony Harrison’s penis have to do with this again?”

“Please don’t touch me with your tentacles,” Howard whined, sounding pathetic. “I know what you did to Lester Corncrake’s head, and no sir, I just don’t like it…”

“Quiet!” Dennis demanded. “No more talk about Tony Harrison’s multi-hexagonal textured alien barbed penis or lack thereof. We’re holding a proper intervention here!”

Nonplussed by this outburst, Tony Harrison extracted small brown bottle from somewhere between his many tentacles. “Poppers!” he proclaimed, waving the bottle in the air.

“Huh,” Naboo said. “That might actually work.”

“Why didn’t _I_ think of that?” Kirk mused.

“Because you disgusting,” Bollo offered, eager to contribute to the conversation.

“Praise be,” Saboo grumbled sarcastically. “The tentacled testicle actually had a good idea for once. Don’t panic, it will be another hundred years before _that_ happens again.”

“Quiet, Saboo,” Dennis demanded. “Let Tony Harrison do his job.”

Tony Harrison pushed himself as far upright as his tentacles would allow, looking proud of himself for having stumbled upon a solution to the problem where his fellow shaman had failed. He cleared his throat with no small amount of pomposity. “Poppers are a wonderful drug. They can give you stronger and more long-lasting erections, and most importantly of all, they decrease inhibitions.”

“Why do we need all that stuff again?” Vince asked, once again attempting to kick against the ropes that bound his feet to the legs of his chair.

“Yeah,” Howard agreed, “a man with my sexual prowess does not need such substances, no way!”

“A man with your sexual prowess?” Vince mocked. “Howard, you’re a virgin!”

“That was supposed to be just between us, Vince!” Howard whispered under his breath with a frown.

Tony Harrison paid them no mind. After all, the constant bickering between the two men was the only means by which Vince and Howard had to express their desires. Luckily, Tony Harrison was here to help. “Because,” Tony Harrison explained, “you two are the most uptight repressed homosexuals I have ever met. But don’t you worry--a couple sniffs of this, and you’ll forget all the reasons why you’ve never bummed each other!”

He turned to Saboo, who lifted Tony Harrison in his arms so the remedy to the problem could be administered, though Saboo, as always, took the opportunity to complain about being Tony Harrison’s designated handler.

“Why am I always the one who has to handle this pink vesicle?” griped Saboo.

“Shit off, you love it,” replied Tony Harrison. “Get me right up under their faces, there’s a good lad.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me or you’ll come to know the meaning of the Crunch,” Saboo warned.

Dennis and Kirk clasped their hands over Vince and Howard’s mouths to force them to breathe through their nostrils as Tony Harrison held the bottle beneath their noses with a pink-tentacled grip. It took only a few sniffs before the drugs began to take effect.

While Naboo had been listening to the two men’s thoughts about all the obscene things they wanted to do with each other for the entire afternoon, the disembodied thoughts inside his skull reached a fever pitch. _Fuck, I’m so hard--Christy, I want him so bad--Vince, please, put it in me--Howard, spread your legs for me, I’m gonna fuck you so hard…_

“Give them a few more, just to be certain this will work,” Naboo gritted out, trying his best to block the frankly pornographic images and words currently assaulting his mind as he went about untying the bonds that secured Vince and Howard to their chairs.

No sooner were the two men freed than they started grabbing at each other. Clothing was torn. Howard’s tits were out, and Vince was sucking on his teats like a calf on a cow. Naboo was pretty certain that Vince’s dick had ripped a hole in his jumpsuit, but the normally fashion-obsessed man who panicked over a simple tea stain paid it no mind. He was altogether too distracted by Howard’s large hand groping Vince’s equally-large erection to care.

“Well, ballbags,” Naboo said, “our work here is done.”

“Let’s get out of here,”  Saboo grumbled. “I didn’t come all this way to watch your disgusting, flea-ridden tenants mate like the mongrels they are. I parked the carpet out back.”

Tony Harrison and Kirk, inveterate perverts both, tried to protest, but Dennis shot them a warning look. Grumbling, the two shaman followed the rest of the Council out back where the magic carpet awaited them.

Bollo, ever the helpful familiar, remembered to grab the Space Cake before he left. After all, the shaman had worked very hard to help Vince and Howard with their problems. They were probably hungry and dangerously close to sober, and they certainly deserved to be rewarded for their good deed, preferably with some very, very good drugs.

As the shaman and the gorilla arranged themselves on the carpet and took flight, Naboo said the magic words, which were, “Awright ballbags, it’s time to get high!”

And the Shaman Council, patting themselves on the back for another job well done, proceeded to eat the Space Cake and do just that.

**Author's Note:**

> Evidently my favorite sitcom cliche is the poorly-performed intervention. Maybe one day I'll do something original, but for now I'm having way too much fun.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Kudos and comments feed the muse! A happy, well-fed muse is an inspired muse, and keeps the fics coming.


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